


Take Care of You

by edibleflowers



Category: Popslash
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-18
Updated: 2012-09-18
Packaged: 2017-11-14 13:05:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/515535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edibleflowers/pseuds/edibleflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>JC takes care of Joey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Care of You

**Author's Note:**

> This was written and posted back when we thought the hiatus would end. Ha, ha.

Joey's operating on spatial memory alone by the time he finally gets into the bathroom. He'd taken off his clothes on the way in, starting with his shoes at the door and ending with his boxers just outside the bathroom, and he grabs a towel from the shelf in the closet and climbs into the shower, fumbling with knobs. The cold shock of spray is enough to at least partially revive him; he throws the towel over the rack and waits for the water to run warm, which it does quickly but never quite quickly enough. Then he reaches for the shampoo.

He hates going back into rehearsals, he hates it with a fucking passion. Even though they're just catching up on old choreography this week, they haven't even started on the new stuff, he still hates it. Twelve hours of nothing but "Pop" over and over and he knows that in the morning he'll be ready to go again but right now he just wants to collapse and die. It's bad enough when they have a normal break between tours, but the hiatus -- as good as it was for some things -- did terrible things for his stamina. Not to mention his waistline. He slaps his belly with a lathered hand and sighs. "We had some good times," he tells it. He'll miss his belly.

By the time he's rinsed the conditioner out of his hair he's about ready to curl up on the nice ceramic tile floor and go to sleep with the water pounding down on him. He almost doesn't register the singing at first, and then when he recognizes the voice he wants to groan. How the fuck can JC still be awake after all the energy he put out today, let alone alive enough to sing?

He has to smile when he hears JC's bare feet on the bathroom floor, though, and when the shower door snicks open, he just gives JC a sidelong glance. "You're peppy, Chasez," he says.

"You gonna use up all the hot water?" JC asks, with an arched eyebrow; his eyes are dancing, and Joey grins, turning to let the water cascade down his chest.

"You could join me," he offers.

JC inhales sharply, nostrils flaring, and his shirt comes off in a second, taking the baseball cap with it. Joey doesn't think he's ever seen anyone undress so fast. In moments JC's jeans have joined the heap of clothes and JC is stepping into the shower, toe ring clicking a little on the tile. He slides the door shut and Joey reaches for him, stirred himself by the undeniably gorgeous sight of JC bare-skinned, gleaming with moisture.

Joey reaches for the shampoo, for JC's hair, but JC shakes his head and picks up the soap instead. "You're just gonna let me take care of you," he says, and his curving slow smile now makes Joey so hard it hurts. But he nods, because it's fucking hot, and JC circles him, presses a kiss to the back of his neck before soaping up Joey's back, down the stiff aching muscles. JC's hands are a Godsend, Joey thinks. They work expertly into every knot of strained tension, and by the time he's done Joey is gasping, a hand on the soapdish to hold himself up because otherwise he thinks he'd be in a puddle sliding down the drain.

JC continues, though, working his way down Joey's back, nipping playfully at a buttock before lathering down his legs, and he pushes Joey forward a step to rinse off. Then he stands and turns Joey around, so they're face to face. Joey reaches for JC, and JC allows himself to be pulled into a kiss, teasing and hot, tongues gliding wetly against each other, before he slides back again. "Not done," he says, and Joey makes a growling, frustrated whine, but lets him go.

He's even slower on Joey's chest, but not because he's working out tension. JC's mouth is so hot and gleaming sharp sensation on Joey's nipples that Joey can't help it, he grabs a handful of wet Chasez curls and doesn't pull because JC hates having his hair pulled. But he needs an anchor desperately, because everything is spiraling into humid heat and the gorgeous lewd way he feels like he's being serviced by JC. It's so wrong and so right and he wants it, _please please please_ \--

He realizes he was speaking out loud when JC looks up at him -- back on his knees, soaping Joey's broad thighs somewhat carelessly as his tongue carefully delineates the line down Joey's belly, tracing loose wet circles down lower and lower, chin bumping Joey's erection until he stops and looks up at Joey and Joey gasps. "I can stop," JC says mildly. Joey groans, a visceral sound.

"You prick," he mutters.

JC grins. "Sometimes." Then he takes the base of Joey's cock in two fingers and sucks him into the lush exquisite heat of his mouth, and Joey thinks he's going to die for sure.

He doesn't die, although he thinks he's going to come pretty close when JC's throat opens and takes him in all the way, and the grip of it is nearly too much to take. It's too much sensation, he's grateful when JC backs off, pumping the shaft a few times in a sure fist before his darting tongue returns to its loving worship of his cock. JC has a thing for blowjobs. Joey has never appreciated it more than he does right now. Joey's hands are both in JC's hair now, but he's still being careful, just resting them there, loving the wet slide of JC's skull under his palms as his erection slides wetly in and out of JC's mouth. It's a fucking thing of beauty to watch, too, because JC is just rapt, eyes closed, it's almost like the look on his face when he sings, doing something he loves so much. Then there's the porntastic aspect, too, the fact that it's just damn hot to see his dick disappearing into JC's luscious mouth.

JC's head is moving faster and faster now, taking more and more in with every slide down the gleaming shaft, and Joey feels the tug every time JC lets him in all the way, the pull at his balls and the shiver in his spine. He wants to hold out, he wants it to last, because it's so, so fucking good, there's nothing better than this feeling, but there it is, JC pulls back to let his jaw rest for a moment and then engulfs Joey again and that's what does it, the renewal of sensation after a moment's rest and he's coming so hard he thinks he feels it in his toes.

He slumps back against the wall, drained utterly, dimly wondering how the hell he's going to walk out of the bathroom and get into bed, when his legs no longer work. When he opens his eyes, he sees JC, still on his knees, hand working furiously on his own cock, lips still glossy-dark stained, and he breathes heavily. Just a moment and then JC cries out his own climax, his voice raw, and Joey sinks down to his knees, pulls JC into his arms. This time, JC lets him.

They rest like that, Joey's hand stroking the long smooth line of JC's spine, for a few long, quiet moments, and then JC tips his head up and kisses Joey. "Go on and dry off and get in bed," he says. "I'll be right in."

"I want to wash you," Joey says, but it's the feeblest of protests. His body is spent completely now, and he knows he won't last five minutes.

"It's OK, baby." JC smiles, blinking back water from his eyelashes. "Go on."

Joey leaves him in the shower, smiling like the cat who ate the canary, and towels himself off, managing to toss the towel in the hamper before pulling on a pair of boxers and climbing into bed. He doesn't want to fall asleep without JC, so he forces himself to stay awake until he hears the water shut off. A few minutes later, the lights go off and JC comes into the bedroom, padding across the floor; he pulls back the covers and climbs in behind Joey. An arm drapes loosely over Joey's waist, and JC presses a tender kiss to Joey's shoulder.

"Night, baby," he murmurs.

"Night," Joey rumbles back, and lets himself sleep at last.


End file.
